Boris Johnson: that media double life

We've seen before that sometimes there are two Boris Johnsons: there's Mayor Boris, who cares about London's disadvantaged and low-paid, and there's Telegraph Boris - ker-ching! - who cultivates his national support base by pandering to its ancient prejudices. We see the latter at work today, trumpeting his roadworks permit scheme, which has now come into effect:

Just you wait until the thaw. Just wait until the water bursts from those pipes and suddenly the roads will be sprouting orange cones like the crocuses of spring. No sooner has the snow retreated and the ground defrosted than the landscape will once again be full of men with hi-vis jackets and pneumatic drills, following the ancient British procedure. First they cordon off a stretch of the road. Then they dig a hole. Then they brew a nice cup of tea and contemplate the hole. Then they simply vanish, like the Mayans, leaving the rest of us to wonder what they meant by these baffling excavations, and leaving thousands of road-users to queue in a mounting frenzy of frustration.

Poor old British motorist. Bad old British workers. In the land of Telegraph Boris, some things never change.